Pretty
by ElectroGirlNoir
Summary: I'm not sure if there's a fic with this title already, so let me know and I'll change it :D Vince and Howard play love games... and Vince wants to know if he's pretty. Rated M to be on the safe side.


**Pretty**

**A/N:**** Hello, I was starting to get writer's block, so I thought I'd write a little slash fic as a break from all my other fan fictions :D Let me know what you think :) **

**Disclaimer:**** Jeez! Go dance with a penny or somethin'! I don't own the Mighty Boosh, okay, go eat a nun sandwich! **

It was happening again. First, he would start by pretending he wasn't actually looking, maybe peering out from behind his jazz magazine or casually shifting position so that he could see him better. Then, when he thought he wasn't looking he'd openly stare at him, and Vince would bide his time just right then turn swiftly from the mirror to catch his gaze before he dropped it and see his eyes darkened with desire.

Turning back to the mirror again and pouting his glossed lips, he wondered how long this was going to go on for. He didn't want to be the one who made a move; he wanted Howard to be the one to do it. How scary could it be to just kiss him? It wasn't like he'd start attacking him if he did.

_At least, not violently, _Vince smirked in an afterthought.

Sighing, he turned to look at Howard, pouting slightly, flicking his glossy black fringe from his eyes with a slight shake of the head.

'How d'you think this looks, Howard?'

In response, Howard hastily turned back to his jazz magazine, 'What?'

'I mean, that's why I don't like wearing leather too much. It gets uncomfortable and people look at me arse quite a bit too,' he hinted, trying not to giggle when he saw red patches start to appear on Howard cheeks.

'Er... well what do you think,' Howard cleared his throat, his eyes darting all over the place, 'Since when do you ask me for fashion advice?'

'It weren't advice,' Vince replied, posing in the mirror, 'It was opinion, actually,'

'Why do you need opinions for?'

Vince sighed inwardly- this was going nowhere, was it?

From his seat on the living room couch, realisation suddenly struck Howard on the head- _Vince knew. The little Camden Bitch knew, didn't he...?_

'So d'you think I look... Y'know, pretty, Howard?' Vince mentally kicked himself as he felt his own face burning. What did he have to be embarrassed about? He'd done this a lot of times, just not with Howard.

'Well...' Howard shifted uncomfortably again, he knew what Vince was playing at, he'd seen him do it countless times, but now it was being directed at him he wasn't sure what to do, and he couldn't quite believe it _was _being directed at him. He half expected to turn around and see some skinny electro boy or girl standing behind him.

At that moment, Naboo appeared in the doorway, staring hard at Vince and Howard.

'Don't you think anything's a bit amiss?' he snapped, not giving them a chance to answer, 'the shop was supposed to be open five minutes ago you ballbags, what ya doin' just chillin' out?' he made a noise of irritation and headed out again.

Both Vince and Howard were equally surprised; somewhere in their strange moment they had forgotten to open up shop.

'Well then,' Howard stood up, 'We better...' the words in his head were all jumbled, and he felt like he was having to mentally select each letter from his mind's vocabulary, which had decided to turn itself into Alphabetti Spaghetti.

Vince realised that this was probably going to be the last chance he would get at this for the rest of the day, and he didn't think he could possibly stand another day of shifty eye contact.

Before Howard could move he darted into the doorway first, pretending that he had to stop to fiddle with the collar of his adventurously closefitting frilled shirt. Howard waited at first, hovering nearby, thinking that Vince might just go through the door and down into the shop like he had been hoping from the very beginning, but the electro boy didn't move. Slowly, he attempted to make his way through the door, but Vince moved at the same time so that they both got wedged there and fell into an awkward position, Howard with one leg between Vince's, his arms either side of the smaller man who flicked his lashes up at him, the dark eyeliner making them even more vivid.

'Hm,' he said, mock-surprised, 'Look at that,'

Howard looked straight into Vince's eyes, something he hadn't done in ages, and Vince looked back at the dangerous mixture of anger and lust in his eyes and wasn't sure what was about to happen next.

'You cheeky little... _tart_...' Howard growled, and later looked back on the moment and wondered where he got the bravado from as he grabbed Vince's wrists, lifting his knee gently but firmly up between his legs and receiving a pleasantly surprised yelp of pleasure from the other man at the friction it created.

Vince smiled as Howard pressed his lips against his- he knew he'd get his way, after all he was Vince Noir-

'Rock an' Roll Star,' Howard growled, still holding his wrists and dragging him out of the room towards the bedroom; 'get in me bed, sir...'

**A/N 2:**** Sorry if that killed anyone ending it there, I'll be writing better slash on BSH soon, even though I'll be embarrassed about posting it as per usual ;D **


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